Götterdämmerung
by Shrike
Summary: Recount of particular events in German & Prussian history through Hetalia characters. Educative, more or less
1. 1871 UNIFICATION

Götterdämmerung

„'Twilight of the Gods'. The term _Götterdämmerung_ is occasionally used in English, referring to a disastrous conclusion of events." – Wikipedia

1871. UNIFICATION

The two men standing on a grassy hill overlooking a village seemed unperturbed by buildup of chill in the early evening wind. Snow could be smelled in the air, whiffed by heavily overcast skies above the forest that surrounded them with trees as dark and silent as the ominous clouds. The men were protected from elements by uniforms of a specific dark blue tint, turning black in the deepening gloom.

"Winter is at our doorstep, it seems." the older man shifted in his boots, without turning his gaze from the sloping hillside.

The other let the comment float in the air, absorbed by the same sight. A child's laughter rang alien and warming in the barren place, his colorful kite an aberration in stilled, muted surroundings. The two pairs of watchful eyes tracked his fair-haired head bobbing up and down the meadow, blissfully absorbed in a game as only children can be.

"On the contrary, Chancellor" the younger of the two finally spoke up, "I believe it is Spring that awaits us."

The stocky man with heavy moustache considered the reply and smiled enigmatically. "You may have a point there, Herr Gilbert. However, it is a big responsibility, rearing a child on your own…"

"He'll do fine." Gilbert curtly replied, his warm breath leaving foggy traces in the air. His face, pale and stubborn, had a deceptively youthful appearance. There was an unmistakable trace of pride in his features absorbed in the child's play.

"With all due respect, it is not him I am concerned about." under the brim of his ornamented helmet and bushy eyebrows, the old man's intelligent eyes were pointedly studying his patron.

Gilbert's head turned, arms unfolding from his chest. "You doubt me?" he growled, "I could take this as an act of treason."

"Far from it." the old soldier's voice rang true as he shifted his gaze to the child, "He is still young and fragile, surrounded by France and other lurking predators. Remember, not all celebrated this birth. Many think there is no place for a new child in Europe. Some may see to it."

Gilbert snorted and smirked at that, keeping an eye on the running boy. "I would like to see them try." As if in anticipation, he flexed his fingers in black leather gloves, gaining a disturbingly feral expression.

"That is exactly what I'm afraid of." the old man sighed, "We cannot afford the old foreign policy anymore. Times have changed."

"Damn right they have." Gilbert thoughtfully retorted. "The world is entering a new era." His gaze was with the child again, fighter's eyes strangely softened by the sight, lost in calculation. Coldly smiling.

"My lord, if I may…"

"Herr Bismarck!" the young man snapped, "Are you questioning my decisions?"

"Never!" the man fought to hide his marred dignity, "My lord, If I may speak freely, I fear you are failing to see that in time that follows he is not going to be your strength, but your biggest weakness. I fear for your judgment once I'm…"

Chancellor Bismarck bowed his head in uncharacteristic loss of words. The new era he himself helped usher, he will never be a part of. Isn't that the role of a good soldier, of a true patriot? To give his best for a dream that will belong to his children.

As if in reply, a lone wolf howled in the black forest.

"Is that what's been bothering you, Chancellor?" Gilbert's hand amiably rested on Bismarck's slumped shoulder, the old war veterans standing huddled together. "That you will not be here to see little Ludwig grow?"

"My life is nearing its end and his life is just beginning." the old man spoke, "We created him together and from now on he will be in your hands only. I wish a better future for my boy." His eyes were pleading, "Bitte, Gilbert, take care of your little brother."

"Rest peacefully Herr Chancellor, Ludwig will not be enlisted in the army. Instead, he is going to study engineering and mechanics." Gilbert's red eyes shone like embers in the dusk. "Don't worry, should the need arise, I will fight his wars…."

The old man nodded and wanted to believe the words of comfort he's been served. He looked at the little boy skipping and joyfully shouting, innocent and unspoiled, and not for the first time felt the child's boundless potential. Turning his gaze to Gilbert's face of a proud older brother, he could see he was not the only one. He wanted to believe his words so much.

A church steeple in the village rang in hail of evening Angelus, calling villagers from fields to hearths. Stars already shone clear and bright in the sky, night too tenebrous for the black-white-red kite to be flown.

It was time to go home.


	2. 1914  ASPIRATION

1914. ASPIRATION

Gilbert tiptoed into the mansion library, wondering under which section will he find Ludwig today. He subtly steered the boy in his studies, deftly directing him toward practicalities of ore mining, agriculture, mechanics and engineering. Ludwig was a keen and fast learner, a pride of his family.

The white-haired man didn't have to seek far. By following soft glow of a candle he was soon standing by the boy who was just entering his teens, hair shining golden under the tiny flame. Ludwig was lost in one of the books of Gilbert's vast library, so absorbed he failed to notice his brother approaching.

Gilbert stood still for a moment, admiring the sight of small hands that rested on yellowed pages, a plump face that still silently mouthed difficult words, long eyelashes that shaded bright eyes. Ever the soldier, Gilbert wore the only garment he felt comfortable in, but he didn't dress Ludwig in a uniform. The child wore an expensive piece tailored for rich inhabitants of numerous merchant cities that were budding across Germany.

"Studying diligently, I see." the young man smiled approvingly, entering candle's bubble of light.

"Brother!" the child exclaimed, forgetting strict rules of proper library behavior. Wide eyes, full of unhidden admiration turned upwards towards Gilbert's face. "Today I am learning about locomotives!"

"Good boy." He affectionately ruffled Ludwig's hair, running his fingers through long locks of gold. Not a soldier's haircut and Gilbert found the fact strangely pleasing. He then pointed a warning finger at him, "But please remember, no loud noises here."

"Yes sir." Ludwig's voice obediently sank along with his chin. Gilbert felt a pang of guilt, knowing the boy was unused to military drill, but rules were rules. Even if there was no one in the library beside themselves.

"I came to talk to you about something." Again, he had Ludwig's full attention. "Remember uncle Roderick, the one who let you play his piano?"

"Of course!" laughed the boy, then remembered his manners and tentatively corrected himself. "Of course." he whispered, "He gave me the best cake ever."

"Well," Gilbert pulled a chair close to the boy and sat facing him, "it appears that our cousin has got himself into some sort of trouble."

"Bad trouble?" concern was genuine on the child's face.

"Very bad indeed." Gilbert replied. "He declared a war on somebody."

"Why?" Ludwing's voice was growing more anxious.

"Why?" the soldier sighed, "That is a difficult question, little brother. Much more complex than this engine blueprint you are studying."

The boy considered this for a while since the blueprint spread before him seemed like the most difficult thing in the world, something that could only be mastered with great effort and wisdom.

"Why is it difficult? Am I too young to understand?" he finally asked.

"Maybe." Gilbert paused, "Maybe even Roderick doesn't understand it entirely himself." After seeing Ludwig's puzzled expression, he added "I told you it was a complex question."

"But you understand?" It was more a statement than a question and Gilbert only smiled in response.

"Since Roderick is, after all, our cousin, I feel we need to help him in this predicament." Gilbert's grin was a bit too wide. "Him, and ourselves."

"Pre-di-ca-ment?"

"Yes. If somebody was bullying you, you would like me and Roderick to come and help you, right?"

The boy empathically nodded. Gilbert rested elbows of his thighs and leaned conspiratorially closer. He would have whispered the next words, library rules or not.

"I need you to lend me a hand. To help Roderick. Are you in?"

The boy nodded again, too honored or too scared to utter a sound.

"The thing is, bro, if we get involved, that might make some other countries very, very upset." Gilbert's glare was adamant, yet somehow far away. Even if he tried, Ludwig couldn't read the red orbs.

The boy had no notion who those other countries might be and why would they be upset with them trying to protect their kin. He didn't travel much, diplomacy was left to his brother's elite. However, what he did know is that he didn't want to let his brother down.

"I will go with you." he said firmly, as much as a child's voice can sound resolute, "We will ride to uncle Roderick's schloss and help sort things out."

Gilbert's face beamed. "That's my brother!" The boy smiled enjoying the feeling of approval that washed over him.

"But I don't want you to go anywhere near the borders, it is too dangerous. I will arrange everything, I just require some of your people, your provisions, money, that sort of thing."

"But I thought I would get to wear a uniform, like you…" Ludwig's sapphire blue eyes moistened with disappointment. Yet, he didn't dare to cry. Not in front of his big brother.

"Out of the question." said Gilbert, standing up. Then, seeing the boy fight with swelling tears, added, "Well, maybe someday, when you grow up."

"How much do I need to grow?" he was defiantly looking at the soldier from below, barely reaching his belt buckle sitting in his chair.

There was something in that look that caught Gilbert's attention, although he couldn't tell why. He studied his brother, too young to be sitting in a library all day, too innocent to be pulled into other peoples' war.

Above them, a portrait of late Chancellor Bicmarck sternly and silently overlooked the conversation. 'Blood and iron' he had said and blood and iron shall it be. Rules and orders are to be obeyed. And yet, this child was so fragile…

"You will wear a uniform when you are taller and stronger than me." Gilbert said as he turned on his heel and marched in long strides that tolerated no tarrying towards the door. He had preparations to make, new wars to wage. A chilling smile wouldn't leave his face all the way out.

Ludwig's gaze followed him in waning candle light, noting his brother's broad back, lanky hands and strong legs. 'Then I will just get stronger and taller than you.' he whispered, got on the floor and, childishly clumsy, tried to do push-ups as he had seen his brother do.

He had long way to go.


	3. 1918 DEGRADATION

1918. DEGRADATION

Foreign men came and took Gilbert away. Ludwig heard doors crashing open, heavy feet stomping across floors and prized carpets, heard Gilbert's saucy protests, shouts and commotion. In the end, there were too many of them and he had no choice but to climb the waiting coach and depart. Ludwig has been out tending horses, returning to the mansion just in time to witness the arrest.

"What is going on?" he demanded, striding towards the foreigners who coldly ignored him. An elderly servant grabbed his arm and tried to pull him out of the garden and inside the house, but the boy has grown and strengthened and was not so easy to shove around.

"Please, young master, it is doomsday, that's what's going on." the old man has been crying and shaking in shock.

Ludwig tried to make one more step towards the shrinking coach, but the servant dug himself in the ground and clung to him with all his might. "No, no, stay put, hide, or they will take you away as well!"

"Who are they!" the young man shouted, angry and terrified at the same time.

"The Allies, sir. They have come for master Gilbert." his voice trembled and the old man stated shedding tears again, "They will trial him."

"What for?"

"Apparently, sir, the war is over and we have lost. Master Gilbert surrendered this morning."

Ludwig closed his mouth, frowned and let the news sink in. He had lost all boyish features in past couple of years, the war taking its toll on his childhood, but still appeared painfully unfit to tackle the notion of being on the losing side in a world war.

"Why did he go alone? Why didn't you fetch me? We were in this war together." he finally mouthed.

"With all due respect, sir," the servant promptly replied, "he is the general. He issued the orders himself and now has to answer for them."

Ludwig bared his teeth, inched closer to the old man and slowly repeated "We were in this together!"

"Sir," the servant's voice turned softer, "he clearly didn't want his younger brother to suffer the indignity and pain of it."

The youth shook his head. He didn't care much about Gilbert's war games that seemed to amuse and occupy the soldier so much. Ludwig's responsibility was the economy and scientific progress and that's where he thrived. But to suggest that only one of them was responsible for what had happened… Impossible. Did not Ludwig's ploughed fields feed Gilbert's soldiers and didn't his mechanics devise Gilbert's military contraptions?

Besides, Gilbert was his brother.

"Where are they headed?" the blonde shook free of the servant's grasp and started towards horse barns.

"Sir! It is madness to go! It is enough that one of you…" The old man never got a chance to finish. Ludwig's hands were on his shoulders, clenching his bony body like a pair of eagle's claws.

"Speak, damn you! I have no time to lose!"

"T-to France, sir. They are bound for Versailles."

Having no interest to admire luxuries of the Versailles palace, Ludwig was ushered into a grand hall filled with men in dark, solemn suits matched by their dark and solemn faces. Mirrors that adorned walls perplexed him, making the room infinitely larger than it in reality was. His eyes darted here and there, vainly trying to distinguish the familiar pale face between strangers only to find his own terrified gaze stare at him from a mirrored wall.

Finally he saw him. Gilbert sat on the other side of a huge conference table, upright yet relaxed, absorbed in reading documentation spread before him. He didn't even see Ludwig enter.

"Who is this?" a tall man with striking green eyes demanded, standing up.

"Why, isn't that Gilbert's younger brother?" someone said.

At mention of his name, Gilbert's head snapped in Ludwig's direction. Ludwig could see the red eyes widen in surprise then regain their defiant composure.

"Gilbert's little brother? Really? Wow!" another man was approaching Ludwig, benevolently smiling and apparently attempting to take a photo of him. "Will you say 'cheese' for me?"

"Quit the farce Alfred! This is a peace conference, for heaven's sake!" the man with green eyes called out again, visibly irritated.

"Oh, monsieur Germany, how nice of you to join us." languid voice with a peculiar accent addressed the youth and added louder "Make some room next to monsieur Prussia, s'il vous plait."

Ludwig eyed the apparent host with interest. The fair, long haired man, however, seemed profoundly bored and more interested in his attire then in presiding the meeting or familiarizing with his new guest. After some shuffling, a seat was cleared by Gilbert's side and Ludwig occupied it, siding himself with the World War 1 perpetrator. His eyes searched the room for Roderick, but he was strangely absent not only from their side of the table, but from the entire conference.

"Are you mad?" was the first, muffled question that greeted Ludwig as he sat by his brother. Gilbert's brow was knotted and, Ludwig could see now that he was sitting only inches from the man, covered with fine beads of sweat. He didn't look too good, with dark circles under blazing eyes, amplified by stark whiteness of his skin. "Why are you here?"

Ludwig ignored the question, studying his brother's face "What happened to you?"

Gilbert gave him one of his grins. "Took a little beating. Nothing some beer won't cure." His lips were crusted with dried blood in places, a sight that unnerved and enraged the younger man. Gilbert could read his thoughts and grabbed his clenched fist under the table, gravely serious again. "Don't even think it. It would be suicide."

The blonde reluctantly nodded, swallowing his helpless anger. It shocked and hurt him to his big brother this way and Gilbert didn't seem too happy with Ludwig witnessing his fall either.

"To fill you in, monsieur Germany," the host droned as all pairs of eyes in the hall silently fixed on the two brothers, "we were just discussing your unconditional surrender." Gilbert's hand pointedly squeezed Ludwig's fist harder, feeling the younger man's protest welling.

The France monotonously continued, following bullet points on document nonchalantly held in his hand, "You are to take the blame for the war, you are to pay war reparations…"

"But these sums are ridiculously high!" Ludwig, reading the papers before him, couldn't contain himself any longer, causing other attendees to start whispering and commenting among themselves. The blonde youth felt a sudden surge of blind hate towards them and their judging, accusing faces.

"You are to pay war reparations." the long haired man emphasized and continued, "You are to restrict your military forces. You are to give up part of your territory and…"

"What?" Ludwig eyes turned to Gilbert for support, but the white haired man just silently mouthed 'Sit still'.

"And," the long haired man's eyes glazed over for the first time, corners of his mouth barely noticeably rising, "You are to allow parts of your territory to be exploited by the Allies."

"What sort of treaty is this?" Ludwig exclaimed, on his feet now. Older men with stern gazes stared down at him, at his young face, shrill voice. They also took measure of his tall stature and stubborn eyes.

"Sir Ludwig," the green eyed man stood up as well, addressing the youth, "You don't seem to quite grasp the predicament you are in. You don't get to choose. That is what 'unconditional' surrender means." He raised one of his bushy eyebrows at him "Or would you rather continue fighting the war?

Ludwig looked over at his brother who sat silently with hands on the table, clearly uninterested in scattered papers in front of him. It was a change of perspective that struck Ludwig, with him above and his brother's head below. When did Gilbert's shoulders get so narrow, his fingers so wiry? From up here, he could spot bruises on the back of his neck, some old and fading, some fresh in appalling dark-violet shade. He was in no condition to fight on.

Like he was reading his mind, the older brother raised his crimson eyes and shot Ludwig a dangerous and warning glare. The fire still smoldered under the ashes.

The blonde man sighed and reached for the pompously decorated quill. The sooner this charade ended, the better.

Nobody showed them a way out through confusing labyrinth of palace halls and corridors. Nobody took note of their departure, as they were too preoccupied by mapping a new map of Europe and dividing the spoils of war.

Gilbert stood up and stumbled, his steel discipline giving way to exhaustion. Luckily, Ludwig was quick to catch him and gently help him walk.

"Some fix I got us into, eh?" he panted, attempting a cracked smile.

"Don't worry, brother, I am here for you." As Ludwig held onto him and helped Gilbert limp down the corridors of Versailles, the white-haired men was struck how tall and muscular his little brother had become. Leaning on him was like leaning on a concrete wall.

"Hey bro, you grew up so fast." he said in hoarse voice and winced in pain as he shifted weight to his wounded leg, "You are already taller and stronger than me."

Ludwig silently considered implications of his brother's remark.


	4. 1939 REORGANISATION

1939. REORGANISATION

Evening had already fallen when Ludwig returned from another grueling day of factory supervision. His men have been continually developing more efficient and better ways to optimize production, working hard and without complaint. He was pleased with them but far from a happy, bright eyed boy he used to be.

"Evening, bro." Gilbert hailed from his writing desk, basking in electric light that made modern life so convenient. Even now, he insisted on wearing his uniform and living by the drill. "What took you so long?"

"This is pointless!" Ludwig took off his sweat drenched working shirt and slapped it across his shoulders, "We work like mules every day and whatever we make, inflation wipes away in a heartbeat."

Gilbert turned and studied him for a moment, "You are overworked."

"The whole nation is overworked." retorted the blonde, "And hungry."

"Children paying for debts of their fathers." Gilbert stretched and sighed theatrically, "Too bad we weren't in a position to invade some rich and exotic overseas land and made a foolish mistake of trying to snatch some Lebensraum from our foul-tempered neighbors."

"This is not funny, Gilbert." sweat on Ludwig's broad chest glistened with each of his deep breaths as he began to work himself up, "It has never been this bad. The people are getting angry and so am I."

The older man smiled, stood up and approached Ludwig. After the Word War 1 injury, he never lost that slight limp.

"Hey," he put a placatory hand on Ludwig's shoulder, feeling the muscles knot beneath the skin, "don't think I don't see the way things are. It is obvious this cannot go on for much longer."

"But what to do?" the younger man's anger seemed to dissipate under his brother's palm. Taller by head, he again looked like a child seeking advice from a mentor. "Our people feel they have been wronged and punished too harsh. I can feel their dissatisfaction like smoke in my lungs. It chokes."

The white haired man only nodded, letting Ludwig speak his heart.

He looked at his strong hands riddled with blisters, red with frostbite, "I don't know what more can I do for them. They deserve better, but… I feel so helpless, constrained and isolated." Desperation in his voice was palpable.

Gilbert put his arms around him and Ludwig let his head rest on his brother's shoulder, comforted by his presence. "Isolated in the heart of Europe." he whispered.

"We can change that." Gilbert said, pulling away. "I'll see to it."

"What do you mean?"

"While you have been working your skin off, I have been keeping fruitful correspondence with prospect friends and allies." the albino's lips stretched into a smirk, raising Ludwig's attention.

"What would we need allies for?" he asked warily.

"Allies, helpers, sympathizers… don't split hairs! The problem with you, bro, is that you always want to do everything by the book. You are too diligent, too obsessed with being fair, thorough, black or white to live in the real world. Do you think what is happening to our people today is fair?"

"No." Ludwig slowly said, "but I am not sure where this conversation is going."

"What I am trying to say is there is a high probability we will have Japanese and Italian officials visiting us soon." Gilbert's smile widened, "And the chances are they will be bringing highly lucrative offers, a once in a lifetime sort of thing."

The tall man was silent for awhile. "You were talking about a foolish mistake earlier." he said gravely, knowing the way his brother handled things. His eyes were tired and wary, but there was also a defiant spark in them, a glare of something being trapped in a corner for too long, now lurking and getting ready to bite.

"No fools this time." Gilbert said without a hint of doubt, confirming Ludwig's premonitions. He couldn't remember when was the last time he saw his brother's former arrogance restored like this. It was a long-lost, familiar sight, reminiscent of glory-days, happy memories and, strangely, it made his skin crawl. "Or do you wish to sit idly and let things get worse?"

The blonde shook his head and sat down, lost in thought.

"What have we got to lose? Do you think someone will hand you better treatment on a silver plate?" Gilbert insisted, leaning over him. "Don't you think we have bowed low enough already? We have a right to live in our country with dignity and prosperity, do we not?"

Ludwig nodded noncommittally, trying to get his thoughts sorted out. Maybe Gilbert did have a point, after all he was older and more experienced…

"Aren't you fed up with those hypocrites' mock treaty?" the torrent of words seemed ceaseless, "Do you want our nation to be treated as second-rate forever?"

The blonde felt his pulse pick up the pace, poisoned by resentment and anger. Indeed, what did he have to lose? The future looked bleak enough already.

When he raised his gaze towards Gilbert, the blue eyes were ominous and cold as ice. "This time I am also putting on a uniform."

The soldier smiled and ruffled Ludwig's hair as if he were a boy. "I knew you had it in you!" he said proudly, "This time they will have to deal with us both!"

"I have already begun with preparations, my dear brother, just like in the old days." he continued. Gilbert's stature, voice, face seemed to rejuvenate, fueled by prospect of a quick and sneaky attack, "Found the perfect man for the job too."

"Don' tell me you found a worthy successor of Chancellor Bismarck?" Ludwig snorted, ran fingers through his locks and leaned back in his chair, falling into his new role all too easily. The slick hair and cynical eyes gave him a somewhat predatory look. Merciless.

Gilbert only smirked back in response, "Truth be told, this is one of Roderick's men, but with a glorious vision. Charismatic. We can use him."

"And what about Roderick?" Ludwig inquired.

"Herr Adolf and I have already made plans to annex Austria on our way. Honestly, I don't expect Roderick to protest at all. He always was hungry for a bigger mansion, the self-proclaimed noble."

Ludwig laughed heartily, released from restrictions and the urge to please. His expression then turned serious, a face of a trained hound waiting his orders "How do I fit in your plans?"

There was a satanic gleam to Gilbert's crimson eyes, "I will need your organization and project management skills. Herr Adolf has a lot of big plans that can put diligent and obedient people like you to good use."

Ludwig grinned and flexed his powerful fist that already itched for comforting weight of a weapon.


	5. 1945 CAPITULATION and SEPARATION

1945. CAPITULATION / SEPARATION

"You have been hit!"

Ludwig's panicked shouts were barely hearable over the noise of exploding bombs and anti-aircraft fire. He threw himself out of a ditch and crawled over to where his brother fell while trying to take cover. With their uniforms worn out and filthy, bellies empty and armies decimated, they were the last stand of their once grandiose war campaign, now witnessing its final chapter on their knees.

"It's alright, it's alright." Gilbert strained tone relaying just the opposite. "Just let me rest here a bit."

Ludwig lay by him in the bomb-plowed earth made into a slippery field of mud by a persistent drizzle. "There is so much blood…" His fair eyes were like pieces of a clear blue sky on a dirty face beneath a helmet rim, alert and concerned.

"Wars are usually like that. ", he attempted a smile but grimaced in spite of himself. "I will be fine, just need to gather my strength."

"Brother?" Gilbert didn't need to open his eyes to see Ludwig's face, he had anticipated this question for days.

"Are we going to die?"

"Die?" he smirked, "It is easy to die! To live is the heavy part! You owe it to our people!" Gilbert's eyes shone sternly. "Is that what I taught you? Get a grip on yourself, soldier!"

"I don't want to be a soldier!" Ludwig suddenly wailed like a child, tossing away his helmet. "I want to go back to creating, growing, inventing, not rolling in muck and gore, burying the very people I am supposed to live for! I don't understand half of what you have been teaching me. I am sorry." He cried and cried, tears revealing clean skin of his cheeks. "I am sorry."

Gilbert studied him, his features softened and tired. He pulled closer and held Ludwig is his arms, marginally aware of sudden, unnatural silence. Far on the horizon, he could distinguish figures in enemy uniforms approaching, hammering the final nail into the coffin of their defeat.

"My dear, dear brother." he whispered softly, ruffling Ludwig's blonde hair, "Maybe you were the smart one after all, the one whose ways we should have followed instead of… Never mind, it is too late now." He looked over at the approaching men and sighed heavily. Ludwig's sobs quieted down and he listened, cradled in his brother's arms. "When we capitulate, the Allies will reveal some things I did and kept from you. Some ugly, nasty things I did - I allowed to be done - for our cause. I don't expect you to understand, but I want you to know that I did it for us, for our future. Forgive me!"

Ludwig stared at his streaming tears with bewilderment. He has never seen the hard core soldier cry. Before he could mouth a single word, Gilbert interrupted in haste, gripping Ludwig's head between palms of his hands.

"Never forget who you are. You have Teutonic blood coursing through your veins.", the red eyes were swelling with tears, glittering with pain and love. "I wanted to make a place in the world for you, only for you. Du bist mein ein und alles."

"Bruder…"

"There he is, snatch him!" a stranger's voice exclaimed from nearby. Heavy footsteps rushed in their direction.

"Don't harm the boy!" Gilbert shouted and covered Ludwig's head with his body. Ludwig felt a spasm as butt of a rifle connected with his brother's temple and a sudden weight as Gilbert's body went limp on top of him. Unseen pairs of hands grabbed his uniform and moved him away, exposing a sight of a standing armed man to Ludwig.

"My lad, you grew a lot since I last saw you." it was the green eyed man Ludwig saw in Versailles for the first time. He too has changed, appearing more hunched and exhausted, the war taking its toll.

"NO! He is wounded!" Ludwig screamed with his entire being, but nobody paused as they dragged Gilbert's limp body across the mud, leaving a trail of blood. He reached after him but his fingers couldn't hold on for long and his brother's uniform slipped from his grasp.

To Ludwig it felt like a life he knew had slipped away.

Albert studied his broken form sprawled in mud as if he himself couldn't believe this broken young man was his mighty enemy.

"Are you armed?"

The blonde shook his head, displaying open and empty arms. So empty.

"Where are you taking my brother?" his cracked voice demanded.

"If he survives, he is to be disowned, stripped of his name and a place he can call his own." Albert said evenly, his eyes cold. "He is to live in your house from now on, if you'll have him."

"He is my brother!" Ludwig screamed at him, at the world.

"Very well." the winner snorted, "He is to be kept in isolation, under our supervision, away from you and your affairs. No exceptions or negotiations about that, if you want him to live. We will organize transport of his former citizens into your realm. From now on, they too are your responsibility. Understood?"

Ludwig feebly nodded, all fight drained from him.

"Good. I am glad we got that sorted out. And we have yet to deal with you, young man. I hope you will be more reasonable than your brother was." with that he turned and left.

He has been walking for kilometers without a pause, without any distinctive features on the surface of the grey wall he's been following that would prompt him to rest. How could he rest? During daytime he's been absorbed in rebuilding a nation from ashes and during nights he's been fighting with phantoms, demons that often bore Gilbert's features.

So many things he pretended not to see, so many things he didn't want to look too deep into or scratch the surface of. He wanted to see a warm light instead of maddened blaze when he looked in his brother's red eyes. But the spark had always been there, so enticing and so dangerous.

Was he blind? Or did he pretend to be? Out of love? Or because he was of the same blood?

In his pocket, in the palm of his hand, he firmly gripped the only thing left from his brother, a trinket that came to his possession through his desperate clawing at Gilbert's uniform the last time he saw him. Like so many times before, Ludwig clenched his fist, feeling sharp edges of the black iron cross prick his skin. Its familiar shape and heaviness felt comforting, its pointed edges drawing blood from his flesh, reminding him of his brother in that way.

He finally stopped, wondering how long he's been treading lost in thought. He turned, his gaze following the path behind him, nothing on it to give him a clue of how far he had come today. Maybe Gilbert was on the other side, just couple of footsteps away, gazing at the same empty wall, same empty sky, breathing the same freezing air. He knelt by the unnatural boundary where the meadow gave way to stacked bricks, life to death.

For the first time in his life, Ludwig was utterly alone. He made his own decisions and handled his own consequences. In a way, he was better off. But still, something was missing. He was incomplete. He wanted to call out his brother's name, but dared not. It was forbidden and Ludwig's people have suffered enough. For their sake he had to bite his tongue and bow his head, silence his heart.

One hand pressed against the endless barrier, the iron cross futilely scraping at the mortar between two bricks, he began to weep.


	6. 1989 REUNIFICATION

1989. REUNIFICATION

As usual, evening found Ludwig in his study, checking his private correspondence after a grueling day in office. No matter where he moved across Berlin over the years, he could never bring himself to move away from the line that split the city, the country, the history, in two. Even now he just had to cast a glance over the computer screen and through the window to see its grey, arching back slithering across the sleeping city. The Wall.

Feeling it constantly as a thorn in his flesh, Ludwig had spent last decades in silent and diligent work. And there was a lot of work to be done – first reparations of the things broken, then building of things new and their constant advancement. His achievements didn't go unnoticed and other countries have, one by one, started extending their hands to him, wanting to be his friends, business partners and confidants. However, no matter how praised, sought for or even envied, there was always a no man's land Ludwig kept between himself and others, masked by a polite, distancing smile that never reached his ice-blue eyes. He was rich, powerful and educated, on a par with others, not a hasty young man that was ready to jump in any fray after his brother. He knew most of his recently acquired friends were hanging around because of his wealth, at the same time scared, deep down, of his might. Ludwig just kept on working, shaking hands, signing contracts and smiling when addressed by the outside world, ever keeping an eye on the Wall. A deep aching, which never subsided since he last saw his brother, wound not let him be any other way.

A flutter of wings had almost disappeared into the night when Ludwig realized it was a familiar sound. When he reached the window pane the great black bird was nowhere in sight, a crumpled envelope serving as the only witness of its visit. Ludwig picked it up with a shaking hand. It couldn't be! But the flourish handwriting was unmistakable. He tore open the crummy paper and unfolded a single sheet of paper. Seeing his own name written by 'his' hand after all these years of silence had been a blow, but to get an entire letter…

Ludwig sat down, dying to read it and dreading it at the same time. No matter what was inside, it could not be ignored. The chances are, it would bring a change and Ludwig wasn't sure a change was what he wanted, after all. He was proud of what he had become on his own, reluctant to change his course. At the same time, he knew he would never have done any of it without Gilbert's upbringing., Wasn't he, in fact, all this time waiting for this day to come, begging for it?

He read.

"_My little brother, dear Ludwig._

_It has been so long since I last saw you or heard your voice. I hope you are doing well, taking care of your own. I still miss you every day, still expect to see you just around the corner, still start talking to you before I realize you haven't been by my side since... God, has it already been so many years?_

_My beloved, blue-eyed child... Except, you are no child anymore, are you? I hear others have accepted you as an equal, listening to what you have to say, recognizing your value. I hear you have entered important clubs, atoned for our sins and embraced the new era. It seems you have come so much further than I have, doing things your way. I always knew you were the brighter one. _

_I hope this letter reaches you and that you will not be reluctant to read it, once you recognize the handwriting. I hope you still remember me, your big, troublesome brother, and that the memories you nurture are happy ones._

_I am withering and weakening with every passing year, bitterly pondering glorious past that will never return. I do not regret what has become of me, for it was the path I have chosen. The only regret I keep is not having you by my side. I have indeed been punished cruelly. Divide et impera, the wisdom of ancient conquerors, my paragons. Only now I understand how true it is and how deep it cuts. Being separated from you is my real punishment._

_They didn't kill me on that battlefield, just as they failed to destroy me in all the wars I had waged. What they succeeded in since - I hate to admit - is breaking of my heart. There isn't much of me left, my dear brother, I am losing my spirit just as I have lost my substance. Before that happens completely, I wanted to say goodbye._

_Just as you were in my heart and in my every breath even before you were born, I hope you will keep a part of me within you, as you go down your path. I pray that my legacy won't weigh down your tread and that the blood I shed will not smear your perspective. If I have to give up my today for your tomorrow, if I have to die for you to live, it will be the sweetest sacrifice – no, a gift – to make. You are my precious child, my life._

_You still make me proud, every day._

_Yours,_

_G "  
><em> 

Ludwig abruptly stood up, not registering a chair that tipped over and crashed to the floor behind him. In couple of wide strides he was out of the room, the house, the yard, oblivious of pinching cold and wind. As if possessed, he started walking along the Wall, unable to hold still. He could feel the time running out, slipping through his fingers. Sniffing the wind and pacing about, like a caged animal, his palms slid across the rough surface, vainly trying to read cryptic messages left there. His fingers were shaking, his head spinning. He did not know what to do.

Building up from his heart, squeezing through his throat and over his tongue was a sound, a forbidden word that would no longer stay in his lungs.

"Gilbert!"

His own voice startled him, but just for a moment, and then encouraged to cup his mouth with his hands and shout his brother's name again and again.

Lights at guard towers lit up and pinned him down, stirring ominously. Ludwig broke into run, not because he feared the lights, but because his feet moved on their own heeding some silent call. He sped along the barrier, exclaiming the forbidden name whenever he could catch a breath with lights on tops of towers lighting in accord with his progress.

"Gilbert!" he panted, cold air ripping his lungs apart, "GIL-BERT!"

Then he heard it and stopped in his tracks, almost falling over. A faint sound, just a suggestion of a voice, but he knew. He knew. Without a conscious thought Ludwig took couple of steps back and threw himself against the Wall, hands and feet working, trying to get a purchase, climbing, slipping, stubbornly persevering.

"Move away from the wall!" a steel voice from above his head commanded in a foreign language. English? Spanish? Russian? Ludwig barely registered "Move away NOW!" this time accompanied by uncocking of guns. It didn't matter, he had reached the top without slowing down and was dumbfounded by grey wasteland stretching on the other side. Crooked trees, gravel roads and pale streetlight cast by scarce lamps. A few paces from the Wall a sitting figure was waiting for him, silverish hue emanating from places where waning light touched his thinning locks.

"You..?" courage suddenly drained from him by ghostly sight, Ludwig sat indecisively on the Wall ledge a moment longer before swinging his legs to the other side and crossing over. He ignored a single bullet whizzing over his head and a yell: "If you go to that Junker, you are no better than him, the bastard!"

"Brother?" Ludwig's own voice rang thinly in his ears as he approached a familiar figure. "Is it really... you?" He chocked and fell to his knees before the sitting man, realizing what he was seeing.

The face that smiled at him in pale light was his brother's; older, thinner, but real. The uniform was still there, as was the mischievous light in his eyes, and by concentrating on his brother's face Ludwig could almost forget about a gaping vacancy where his legs had been.

"You came after all!" Gilbert's hand ruffled Ludwig's hair, playfully and caringly at the same time. "I see you got my letter." The blonde felt his throat tighten in response. He wanted to be brave, strong and happy, but failed miserably. The soothing hands on his head and shoulders, strangely, didn't help. His most secret wish just extinguished. Nothing could be as it once was.

Gilbert moved away and reclined in his wheelchair, his voice flat, businesslike. "Did you come all the way here to feel sorry for me?"

The blonde shook his bowed head. He needed a moment to compose himself and the Prussian didn't interrupt him. He had waited this long, he could endure another minute or two. Then Ludwig's hands blindly moved forward, gently as if not to break him, and found Gilbert's knees, hands, shoulders.

"Gib mir mein Herz zurück." Ludwig finally whispered, pleadingly, his eyes squeezed shot not to let more tears escape. Bones in his brother's shoulders seemed to protrude from his thin uniform and dig into the blonde's palms. The sensation hurt him with irrational intensity.

„I want to be whole again." he cringed at the glance of where Gilbert's legs used to be, but steeled himself to look his brother in the eye. Gilbert, pale as snow, smirked in shadow Ludwig's frame threw over him, his orbs a pair of smoldering coals. Something in blonde's stomach clenched at the sight, a familiar blaze and bittersweet devotion… and acrid smell of scorched gunpowder. No more of that, neither of them could afford it.

"Things have changed." Gilbert said, as if reading Ludwig's mind. "Don't worry brother, I am no fool. There is no way back."

Ludwig managed a smile of relief. "You are coming with me." he said slowly and softly, "Nothing will stand between us, ever again. It is my turn to take care of you, brother." He added with a hint of childish pride, "I will show you what I became since we were apart."

"I cannot wait." the Prussian's smile widened, he leaned forward and put his arms around Ludwig's shoulders. They felt more sturdy and reliable than Gilbert's ever were and beneath them he could feel rhythmic beating of Ludwig's strong heart.

"You don't need me to give you your heart back, little bro." whispered Gilbert, "Yours has been in the right place all along."

The blonde shook with a violent sob and would have clutched to Gilbert more tightly, were he not afraid to shatter him in his embrace. Somewhere behind his back a crack appeared on the surface of the Wall and started spreading like a web, slowly but irreversibly turning the mighty barrier into rubble.

Ludwig carefully picked up Gilbert's fragile frame and began walking, ignoring the howling of sirens from shattering guard towers. Time to go home.

THE END


End file.
